


Eavesdropping

by chiarascura



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, alistair's self esteem issues hurt my soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Excuse me?” He instantly recognized Lady Isolde’s voice, but the incredulous tone was unfamiliar. </p>
<p>Surana spoke up, and Alistair stopped. What was she doing in Lady Isolde’s room? “You’ve been especially cold to him lately, even after he was instrumental in saving your son.” Alistair crept to the door, placing himself near the opening to eavesdrop. The guilty feeling sat badly in his stomach, but Surana didn’t know Isolde as well as he did.  “All I want is for you to not ignore him or dismiss what he says out of hand or treat him like he’s stupid. He’s not stupid, he’s brilliant and loyal and I couldn’t do any of this without him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eavesdropping

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Kink Meme [here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11571.html?thread=59967795#t59967795)

Alistair followed the ghosts that walked the halls of Redcliffe castle. The gardener who always had a sweet in his pocket for him, the stablemaster who gave him a cushion for the loft above the stalls, the lady’s maid who helped him clean up broken things before Lady Isolde appeared to scold him. Most of his good memories eventually turned sour with the the resentful woman, but Alistair tried not to dwell on those parts.   
  
He made his way through the castle to the rooms where the Warden and their companions were allowed to lodge, trying not to think too much about his time here, memories as a child or more recently. Only a few hours had passed since Surana managed to save Connor, and it hadn’t been particularly pleasant. Alistair had been on edge the entire time, ready to slay the demon if it appeared as Wynne entered the fade. Her description of the event afterwards hadn’t made Alistair feel any better. It was over, but the what-ifs stayed with him.  
  
As he passed Lady Isolde’s room, he skirted away from the door, not wanting any reason to interact with the bitter woman. He didn’t blame her entirely for sending him away, but he did blame her for the rude manners and cold demeanor that persisted even into his adulthood. He stayed close to the opposite wall, but voices drifted through the cracked open doorway.  
  
“Excuse me?” He instantly recognized Lady Isolde’s voice, but the incredulous tone was unfamiliar.   
  
Surana spoke up, and Alistair stopped. What was she doing in Lady Isolde’s room? “You’ve been especially cold to him lately, even after he was instrumental in saving your son.” Alistair crept to the door, placing himself near the opening to eavesdrop. The guilty feeling sat badly in his stomach, but Surana didn’t know Isolde as well as he did.  “All I want is for you to not ignore him or dismiss what he says out of hand or treat him like he’s stupid. He’s not stupid, he’s brilliant and loyal and I couldn’t do any of this without him.”   
  
Alistair’s brow furrowed. Who were they talking about? Surely not him…   
  
Lady Isolde sniffed, and her voice filled with haughty disdain. “Warden, this is too much. I cannot forget our history or his misbehavior as a child. He hasn’t seemed to grow up, and I cannot—“  
  
“You can.” Surana’s voice was steel, immoveable and indomitable. “I can’t imagine how a child could have maligned you so to treat him the way you do. Are you honestly still holding childhood antics against a grown man?” Alistair stilled and his blood ran cold, realizing they _were_ actually talking about him.   
  
Isolde’s voice grew higher as she defended herself, clearly uncomfortable with Surana’s judgment. “He was filthy and baseborn and represented everything awful. He was a bastard to a washer-woman and should have remained in his place, not lifted up beyond his station.” The venom in her voice made Alistair flinch from where he stood outside. Her hateful expression rose in his mind’s eye immediately, quick to reappear. The familiar tirade still hurt.   
  
“I cannot imagine how it can be so difficult to act with respect towards another person, especially one who has done nothing to you besides fall victim to an accident of birth. Lady Isolde, if your son’s life meant so much and you truly want to offer a boon to the Wardens, this is all I ask. Treat Alistair with respect or prove your son’s life doesn’t matter as much as you say it does.”  
  
Alistair couldn’t move, paralyzed as if stunned by a blow to the head. A boon? Surana was asking Lady Isolde to be nice to him? Her voice was icy and brittle, the tone she only used when threatening or intimidating people. In other situations, it made Alistair hot under his armor, but now, it was confusing.   
  
His thoughts whirled, leaving him speechless as well as frozen. Why would Surana waste such an opportunity on getting a hateful old woman to be _nice_ to him?   
  
Surana thrust open the door and stepped into the corridor, running bodily into him before he could escape. She bounced back as she hit the wall of his chest and Alistair instinctively reached out to steady her.  
  
“A—Alistair?” Surana’s face flushed and her eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were out here— did you…” She swallowed and took a step back from him.  
  
He blinked for a moment. “Were you just…” He realized she caught him eavesdropping and he dropped his hands from her shoulders to scratch the back of his neck. “I wasn’t, I was just walking by and, well I heard Isolde and I wasn’t sure if you, um.”   
  
They stared at each other for another moment, and Alistair wondered if he could melt through the floor right now. Surana fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve and bit her lip as she glanced around, avoiding his eye.   
  
His abrupt voice broke the silence. “Did you ask Isolde to be nice to me?” He heard the wonder and edge of pleading in his voice and he coughed to clear his throat. “Why would you do that?” His voice was deeper. Better.  
  
Surana shrugged and the toe of her boot traced patterns on the floor. “I just, I don’t like the way she talks to you.” When she looked up and their eyes met, Alistair felt a jolt of heat rush through his stomach. “You don’t deserve that. I know what it’s like for people to talk down to you for no reason. You’re so much better than she thinks, and. Yeah.” Alistair watched pink creep up to the tips of her ears and Alistair wanted to kiss her. So much. The twisting sensation in his chest felt brighter.  
  
“I, huh.” He paused. Why did this perfect woman want to help him like that? It didn’t make sense. “You could have asked her for anything. Why did you…”   
  
Surana looked at the ground again and her fingers began tugging at her sleeve again. “You just… You deserve more than that,” she repeated.  
  
She looked up at him through her eyelashes and Alistair felt a goofy smile stretch across his face. He felt light and airy, like his armor was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “Thank you,” he murmured.   
  
“Of course. Anything.” The smile on her own face was blinding and brilliant and so beautiful. Alistair felt himself blush again.   
  
Her eyebrows jerked up and she reached into her pocket. “Oh, I have something for you,” she said as she rummaged through her pockets then the little bag she carried her herbs and supplies in. “I found it, I wanted to give it to you…”  
  
Alistair shifted his weight on his feet as he waited and tried not to feel nervous. He failed spectacularly.   
  
“Aha!” Surana pulled the object out of her bag and held it out to him. He looked down into her palm.  
  
“Is this…” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He reached out to take the locket, brought it closer to examine. “This is my mother’s locket. Where did you find this?”  
  
He glanced up to see a hopeful expression, which she quickly schooled into something cooler. “It was in Arl Eamon’s office. It looks like he found it and fixed it for you.” Alistair’s stomach twisted at the thought of the man saving and repairing the trinket. Alistair had destroyed it in a tantrum before he left Redcliffe, and had never forgiven himself. To know that Eamon kept it, that it was precious and meaningful to him, made warmth spread through his chest. And now she had found it, remembered him talking about it, and saved it for him…   
  
Alistair swallowed through the lump in his throat. He felt overwhelmed. No one had done anything like this for him before. “You… remembered.”   
  
Surana nodded and looked back at the wall. “Well, yeah. Of course I did.”  
  
 _Of course she did._ Alistair’s chest seemed to squeeze his lungs until he was short of breath. He didn’t know what to say. “I can’t repay you for something like this.”  
  
She shook her head and her smile was fond, indulgent. “Oh Alistair, I don’t want you to repay me for anything. I’m doing this because…” She trailed off and her cheeks bloomed again. “Because I wanted to. I wasn’t going to tell you about Isolde, anyway.”   
  
Oh Maker, Alistair knew he was in deep. He closed his fist around the locket. “Well. It means a lot.”


End file.
